"Me?" He gasped. If only it was a show and he didn't mean it. Aziraphale pulls the covers tighter to his chest and he pouts. His brow knots in further worry as he whispers, "My hole? What about my hole?"
He's one very overstimulated angel currently. His mind is very befuddled and it's all Crowley's fault, really. Aziraphale lowers his eyes and says, "Whether it was appropriate or not, I thought it was quite..." He trails off as he speaks, words becoming harder to hear and then just to lips moving soundlessly.